Emancipated and Quite Capable

Despite the party and the interlude with Emma, Jack was mostly grateful the break week was over. Tomorrow there would be a new little sibling, new friends, perhaps even someone who would make him forget all the goodbyes in the last few weeks. And then next week there would be new classes and the play performance.

Today, there was his room and ... not much else. He flopped onto his bed with an apple and a paperback book of Greek myths he'd borrowed from the shelves in the common room, but in truth he wasn't paying much attention to his reading.

[OOC: For Rose, but the door is knockable.]

Jack had stumbled through the portal home from Vancouver so late it was almost morning again, and he slept correspondingly late in the morning. He had responsibilities -- people to check in with -- but at the moment, his body needed sleep far more.

When he stumbled out of bed, his eyes went down to his feet and then up to his face in the mirror, and he let out a disbelieving and oddly high-pitched laugh. A girl? Really?

He was sure, somehow, this was all Merlin and Tony's fault -- there'd been a lot of untrained magic thrown around yesterday, and such things could lead to odd consequences. He just hadn't expected consequences to be spelled b-r-e-a-s-t-s.

Running a hand through his tangled hair, Jack decided to take a moment to make himself presentable and then go to find one of his cohorts from the trip to see if they were similarly affected.

[OOC: Door closed, post open. Also, girl!Jack's name is Dora Hiller, and she's basically some random scene kid somebody on IJ decided to icon. Isn't she pretty?]

Stupid stupid stupid new director. Jack hoped Geoffrey would be back soon from wherever he'd buggered off to, or play practice would become yet more unbearable.

His irritation was strong enough that it gave him something to think about other than vampires and coma victims for the first time in days. With a disgruntled sigh, he settled at his desk with a copy of the play to go over his lines just once more.

[Expecting one, but door is as open as the post!]

As far as anyone in this version of Fandom was concerned, their work was done, which would have given Jack more of a sense of accomplishment if it hadn't made him feel so horribly restless. It wasn't even as if he could find much in the way of distraction. (Emma and Rose slept on with so many other friends at Town Hall; Tony was still working in Vancouver; he supposed he should be more concerned he hadn't seen Valentine all week. She was with her brother, perhaps.) The few people who walked the halls mostly seemed as out of sorts as he was.

He'd also come to the conclusion that the wampyr of his home were the only sane vampires in the universe.

He flopped back on his bed with a primer on Russian grammar. He didn't have any immediate use for the language, but it was, at the least, something to do.

[Expecting a phone call, and someday this will be a linkdrop, but it is open.]

When Jack decided he was going to do something, he usually made it happen, and the sheer perversity of technology be damned. And so it was that he came to spend Monday night relaxed on his bed, Count Orlok playing on a portable DVD player propped on a pillow in front of him.

It wasn't so different from the films he'd seen at home, really. Just .... longer. Longer and darker and who could possibly think vampires looked like that? But the plot was easy enough to follow once he recognized Stoker's novel. A tad ridiculous, but still easy to follow, and not much like Darkest Night at all.

He idly scratched notes on a tablet as he watched. He might claim they were for Mitchell or for Sebastien, but mostly they were for himself. The door was cracked so he could see people coming and going in the hallway, even though he had no reason to expect visitors.

[OOC: Open room post, yep. Nosferatu being out of copyright is WIN -- unless you're one of Murnau's heirs, of course.]

Jack had meant to take Emma on a nice, wholesome, head-clearing walk. Just co-TAs taking a break from the overcrowded common room; nothing more.

... strange how the path lead straight to his room, and how he was grateful to find it empty.

"Acceptable company?"

Jack was still in a brilliant mood when he finally made it back to his room and started straightening things for Tony's visit -- not that things were so untidy to start with. He wasn't Worf, he'd had a wonderful time with Rose the day before, and the building was full of people he'd like to get to know better.

Once his side of the room was neat enough to suit him, he pulled the works of Demosthenes out of his knapsack and settled on his bed to read. Philosophy would never be his first interest, but he had made a promise, and it helped to pass the time.

[OOC: Door cracked, post open. Tony thread NWS.]

Jack was a little pale and tired (and, really, he could hardly complain about either, stemming as they did from Sebastien's bite) when he got back to the dorms Monday night, but entirely pleased by how his visit home had gone. Travel had been all but too simple, and Sebastien had seemed content as they'd moved most of their belongings into a brick rowhouse -- small, but neat, and near the harbor. Jack couldn't help but note how much easier that would make moving on the next time.

Sebastien showed no surprise on hearing DCI Garrett was also in Fandom; Jack shouldn't have been surprised by that. The detective, after all, had his ways. The news Jack's quiet boarding school was in 2009 had been a bit more of a surprise, but after ten centuries, one or two scarcely mattered to Sebastien. He'd merely asked Jack to pay attention to everything on the island -- as if he ever wouldn't -- and sent him back off.

Jack glanced about his side of the room he'd spent so little time in thus far and decided finishing his unpacking could wait until he felt more properly inspired for the work. For now, he'd flop back on his bed with one of his U.S. history books, watching the hall for anyone who might be able to tell him what he'd missed.

[OOC: Open post! Specifics of Emmett convo NFB, please.]